Master Aramis
by Ian Jenkins
Summary: A short story about a human being used for parts by the demon child Aramis.


Master Aramis keeps me down here. He calls it his laboratory. It looks like a dungeon to me, but nobody asks me what I think. Why would they? I'm a specimen. Not a person, not even on the same level as a dog. I am a human, but first and foremost, I am a specimen; a specimen at the beck and call of Master Aramis. Though I cannot come to him if he calls, not that I have to worry about that. Master Aramis does not call and besides, I am shackled here. He does not speak a word unless he wants something directly from me. I try to sleep but often times, I do not wish to, as to be able to keep an eye on Master Aramis. Besides, the deathly groans and moans of the Master's pet zombies keep me awake enough anyhow. Today, I learned that my day to die had come at last. He came up to me and stared directly into my soul via my eyes with that sharp, piercing stare of his. He told me that he was ready to service me for parts and wanted to start with my forearm. I asked him which one. He did not reply with words, merely pulling a small axe from his table and hacked off the forearm of my left arm all the way to the elbow. 

Woe, the pain that came from this as well as a crimson waterfall from the limb that remained. I gave a couple good shrieks before I thankfully passed out from the agonizing pain. It was the same pain that woke me up just now, actually. The blood had stopped flowing, but the pain remained. I was told by Master Aramis that he needed as many fresh parts as possible, and asked me not to die on him yet. Imagine the cheek of this demon, looking no more than nine, ten, eleven of our human years, asking me not to die! As if it would spoil some magnificent plan of his! But it would. Master Aramis is building a super zombie, the most powerful there is. He tells me that I should be honored to be part of it. The honor is lost on me as he takes the axe again. He says that he needs a bit more leg than normal this time.

I have awoken again. Time has no meaning in the Netherworld, but it feels as though I have been here for eons at a time. I hesitate to look down, but I must when Master Aramis comes to me again. I no longer have a left leg. But this was not a clean wound as the forearm chop was. I can see shards of bone sticking out from where the rest of my leg used to be. The floor beneath me is rich red with blood and the brownish-yellowish color of vomit. It is a mess that the Prinnies will have to clean up. But Master Aramis stands before me again, saying that the dead are blind, and that a living eye is needed to help them see. Oh god, that knife...!

My left eye is gone now. I keep it closed, so as to not stain my face further with blood that trickles from the socket. This pain does not end, is unbearable! God, this boy is a creature not to be trifled with! Oh please, my Master, sweet Master, please let this torment end! I taste blood even more now as it leaks into my mouth from my unused eye socket! Despite the metal-like taste, it keeps me alive. But my body refuses to stay alive, vomiting the blood and bile back onto the floor.

Master Aramis comes to me once more and says that he has changed his mind and that he does not need me alive anymore. He will take the right side parts once I am dead. He moves around behind me and I can see the sharp knife in his hand, the one he used for my eye, still stained with blood. I can hear him maneuvering the rocks behind me. Suddenly, I feel his cold, clammy hand on my left shoulder, sharp claw-like nails digging in into my skin, causing blood to seep out. He brings the other hand around, the one with the knife, bringing it up, past my line of sight, placing the sharp end of the blade against my forehead. And slices. And continues to slice. I scream out in pain. I beg of him to kill me quickly, that I do not wish to suffer any longer. He tells me that he wants my brain, and that he will kill me when he has pulled it from my cranium. I cannot continue dialogue with Master. I can only scream and cry. Eventually I can only slip into unconsciousness. I know that I shall never wake again and that my mind will never be mine again. I can only implore you, reader, that should you ever meet Master Aramis, you should run away as fast as you can.

Oh, Master. Thank you, Master. Death comes to welcome me into his embrace. Thank you, Master, for making this possible. Sweet Master, generous Master. Master Aramis.


End file.
